


Heart Shaped

by godlyflowerlady



Category: DCU (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: 20s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, I swear I'm trying, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Prostitue and Prince, Prostitution, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:43:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godlyflowerlady/pseuds/godlyflowerlady
Summary: From his looks, you could never tell what Bart did for a living. He looked innocent, with his big eyes, the freckles that spread over his nose, cheeks and all over his body and his fluffy, flaming red hair, that somehow always looked windswept.In reality, though, Bart wasn't all that innocent.





	1. Chapter 1

Feburary, 1923  
London

 

When Jaime had come to London, he didn't know what he expected. He had only ever heard stories of the city, too great and too cruel for him to believe them.

He came from Spain, from Madrid, to be exact, where he had spent all his life up to then, as part of the royal family. Prince of Spain, that was the title he had to live up to. 

Now he was visiting England as part of his early preparations in case his father might die. Not that that would happen in the near future, but his mother had pressured him to slowly get more involved in politics, as well as his councils. 

So now here he was, wandering the streets of London. It probably wasn't a place for a young man, who had only ever known the safety of his home (although Madrid had rather rough parts as well) to be alone at, but yet here he was. 

After the journey on ship he had felt the need to get away from all the people he knew, so he had decided to spend his first night in London out. 

Of course this meant his two friends, whom he traveled with, would accompany him. He only meant to get away from the councils and old, stuffy men.

There were suprisingly many people up and about. Maybe it also played a role in which part of London they were, but Jaime chose not to think all that much about that.

His friends were laughing, almost laying in each other's arms as they walked closely, having a conversation in Spanish, quite loudly, one might think.

Jaime only stayed quiet, his hands stuffed into his pockets. If he had tried to, he would have understood what his friends were saying, even with how fast they were talking, but he wasn't interested in such a thing.

A cold breeze played upon his cheeks and the humid air of the night ruffled up his slicked back hair, making a few strands falling into his face. 

He ran a hand through it, combing it back again, as he decided to go inside somewhere, maybe learn a thing or two about how well London lived up to what people said.

When he saw stairs leading a few feet down and to an open door, over which a golden mask was placed, he didn't think twice about it.

"Already found yourself something?" Marco laughed and swung an arm around Jaime, patting his shoulder, before hasting down and inside, along with his friend. 

Jaime followed and only when he was inside, he noticed what the establishment was. Wow, he had actually managed to get himself into a brothel on his first night in this city.

But for all he knew, his friends were already at the bar, getting drinks, and a pretty, red haired boy, fair and barefoot, was already walking up to him with a playful smirk on the lips.

"Can I help you?" From his accent Jaime could already tell the boy wasn't a native. He sounded American. But the sweetness of his voice, the sheer playfulness he wasn't even trying to hide, lulled him in.

For a moment Jaime only opened, then closed his mouth again. The boy could only be fiveteen from what he looked like, he certainly wasn't of the age to be around such a place.

"Not from around, are you?" The stranger tilted his head, trying to get him to talk yet again.

"Yes, I mean, no.." Jaime answered, like an idiot.

But the redhead only giggled and he felt like he would melt right then and there. Never had he heard such an angelic sound before.

"Any gigglewater for the mysterious man from around and not around?" The boy asked, his smirk just as playful as when Jaime first entered the place.

He rolled his eyes, but let him grab his hand and pull him towards the bar. "My name is Bart, by the way, what is yours?" 

"Jaime." He answered and took the glass the younger one offered him with a quiet 'thank you'. 

"Aren't you a bit young to be here?" Jaime dared ask, although feeling a bit hesitant. "Aren't you a bit rich to be here?" Bart answered, and for a moment he was shocked by his words.

He had not expected such an answer from the boy that seemed so sweet just a second ago. But it seemed that he meant no harm, for he quickly went on to speak. 

"I'm sixteen and therefore more than old enough to be here." He smiled sweetly again. "Believe me, there are even younger people here and I was once one of them." 

Jaime was simply stunned. How did a boy so young have a tongue so talented to speak so casually about such sinister things?

He himself was only three years older, but of significantly different origin. 

Then the boy (or dare he say man?) raised a brow at him in suspicion. "Is this what you want? Have a chat?" He leaned in closer to whisper into his ear. "Or do you want to take me into one of the rooms and take me like the slut I am?"

When he leaned back again, there was no sign of what filthy things he had just spoken. There was only the innocent face of the sixteen year old boy, who was silently sipping on his pink drink now.

"I-I..uh.." Jaime stuttered for a moment, before blinking a few times and thinking of what to say. "I'm for talking."

...

It was only later that they found themselves in one of the rooms, Bart moaning beneath Jaime's hands as he took him, hard and fast, but with care and ease.

The bed was not creaking and oh, how thankful they both were for that in that moment, for if it had been creaking just slightly, the whole situation would not have been as tender and intimate as it was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments! 💕 They really motivated me to keep writing

A few nights later, they met again. 

Bart was sitting in an armchair, lazily sipping on his drink, while also considering leaving for the night. He knew for a fact that his cousin would be glad to know he had survived the night and wasn't murdered, like many of the male prostitutes. 

He knew Wally worried about him a lot. Of course he did! Every other week someone disappeared, was found dead or suddenly wasn't heard of anymore. 

His thoughts stopped spinning and the need to take a run lessened when he laid his eyes on the dark skinned man from a few nights ago. 

Oh, how much Bart had thought about him...

Yes, he knew such things always meant trouble and that he shouldn't get attached to anyone (which, honestly, he had gotten quite good at), but something was just so different about him.

He tried hard to remember his name and it shouldn't have been that hard, for he had screamed and moaned it loudly just a few nights ago.

"Uh, hey." The dark haired man (or should he say boy? He looked pretty young) said, scratching the back of his head in a sheepish manner. Bart simply smiled up at him. 

"Well, hello, hermano." He said it completely wrong and Jaime almost winced, but ignored it as good as he could. 

Bart chuckled at Jaime's face and pulled him down into the chair next to his, before offering him a glass. "No, thanks, I, uh, got a thing later." He said in a haste and the red haired boy didn't quite understand, but also didn't try that hard to. 

He nodded and smiled, tilting his head to the side. Tonight Bart seemed a little paler than the other night, Jaime thought. Was he getting ill? Should he bring him medication? He couldn't imagine the boy had enough money to get any by himself.

He tried to shake off the thought. "I didn't expect to see you again." Bart said bluntly, but managed to sound excited about it. As if he had hoped for Jaime to come back. That's also when he finally remembered his name. Jaime!

It stung in his chest, knowing that anyone who ever came to him only came there to fuck, not to have some company or talk to someone, but he would be fine, he told himself.

"I didn't plan to." "So why did you?" "Because you're nice. I've never met someone like you." Jaime gave him a smile and the younger one's heart warmed up a little.

"You mean you don't have redheads in Spain?" He smirked and the latino rolled his eyes with a smile. "Not many." 

"Got'cha there." Bart winked and took a sip of his drink. How did Jason even manage to make it pink? He decided he would ask the bartender later. 

While Jaime looked around, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, as if he was trying to hide some shady business, Bart watched him with a curious expression.

"I've never met anyone from Spain. Tell me about it." He wasn't just trying to make conversation, even if it may have seemed like it, but he had an honest interest in him.

Everything about Jaime seemed like a mystery to Bart. And Bart wanted to solve it.

So the taller one started talking about his home, careful not to mention too much details. He was not sure whether he should mention his heritage to his... 'friend'. 

On one side, it would only be fair to let Bart know of his noble blood, since he also knew of what class he was. On the other side, maybe it wouldn't be a good idea, for obvious reasons. 

Mentioning that you are the prince to a boy-whore you want to make friends with? Yeah, maybe that was not the best idea.

Or maybe Jaime was just thinking too much.

"Do they really have orangas in Spain?" Bart was leaning over the side of his seat, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Jaime couldn't help but smile.

"You mean oranges?" He tried not to chuckle at the innocence in Bart's look, as he nodded with excitement. 

"Yeah! Some punk told me about them! Never had one, but someday I'm gonna!" Bart didn't mention how the man, a traveller, had told him he'd get him oranges one day. 

He died of the plague a few weeks after, unable to continue his journey. Bart heard about it from one of the other boys roughly a month after the death.

Not knowing of the sinister thoughts that crossed the young man's mind, Jaime smiled at him. "Yeah? What's so exciting about them to you?" He couldn't picture someone being so overly excited about a fruit.

"Everything can be exciting if you want it to be, hermano, you just gotta go with what you get." Bart gave Jaime a grin, before getting up and grabbing his hand. 

He pulled him through the small crowd of people, getting a few curses cast upon them. Jason, the bartender with the white streak in his otherwise black hair (, who also always looked out for the workers, a very nice fellow) gave them a raised brow, but didn't ask. 

Bart pulled Jaime to the left and up the stairs, towards some of the rooms. The stairs cracked and screeched beneath them.

"I don't want to-" Jaime was confused. He hadn't asked for them to get a room. Tonight he only came to talk. 

But Bart interrupted him. "I know, I know, it's not what you think." He could almost hear the roll of his eyes, although there was still a smile on his lips.

With a brief screeching sound he opened an old door and suddenly they stood on the roof. Above them were only the sky and a few clothes lines.

"This is..." The latino stared up at the sky, taking a few steps forward. The moon was bright and full and the stars seemed to shine brighter than usual. Or maybe it was just what he felt like.

"Dios mio.." He muttered under his breath. 

Bart had let go of his hand. "It's where I come when it gets a little too much down there." He went over to the edge of the roof and sat down. "You can come here anytime you like." He muttered so quietly, he thought Jaime hadn't heard him. 

"It's not much, but..." "You gotta go with what you get." Jaime said, finishing Bart's sentence. 

"Thank you." Jaime encountered, looking down at the boy. The red haired boy, who was sitting at the edge of the roof, staring down at the streets, filled with people who weren't up to any good. "I'll do."


End file.
